


And Hope Has Fled

by Whitenightshade



Series: Steel Your Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, So much angst, honestly, you have no idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitenightshade/pseuds/Whitenightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of Haven and the fall of the Templars at Therinfall Redoubt, clarity comes to light about the events that led to their downfall.</p><p>Perhaps the Inquisitor should be careful, lest the light expose more that lurks in the shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Several months had passed since the events at Haven and its subsequent destruction. As soon as they supplanted themselves at their new home, Skyhold, the reparations began with immediate effect.

The Inquisition set about making its power, influence and knowledge apparent for all to see. The first weeks alone were dedicated to placing agents where they would be most effective, covering areas or infiltrating where the newly titled Inquisitor could not go.

Favours were called, contracts agreed, people recruited and no matter how tireless they were, the work was practically endless.

The meetings in the War room grew longer each day, even with the ceaseless support of the advisors. Chairs were brought in, then food for meals; eventually the only breaks in discussion of strategy were when someone politely excused themselves to use the facilities or to finish for the day.  
Thankfully, once all plans and negotiations were implemented, this left them freer to pursue their everyday roles.

Commander Cullen went back to his predominant role overseeing the training of the new recruits and offering a Templars perspective of how manage their mage allies.

Spy master Leliana threw herself into The Game of Orlais, placing informants and agents in all manner of nooks and crannies, keen to put information gathered to use.

Ambassador Montilyet, using a tongue that would put silver to shame, filled the gaps between the other advisors expertise. Making sure everything came together tidily by handling requisitions, trade and commerce.

That left the Inquisitor to do what she did best. Adventuring and killing things that attempted to kill her with generous applications of magic.  
She was sure that’s not what was expected of her, but that’s usually what the majority of her excursions devolved into.

The Hinterlands, was a prime example of this.

After several expeditions there, all her group had to show for it was an antagonistic relationship with the fauna and flora of Ferelden. They were, perhaps, single handedly responsible in the sudden drop in the bear population, though Cassandra drew the brunt of that accusation.

They found their way home after a similar expedition (the Hissing wastes this time; different location, comparable results). The group she travelled with was dismissed and they returned to their usual haunts, keen to attend to their own concerns; as Aella found herself back in the War Room to debrief her advisors of what had transpired on the excursion.

The meeting was brief, which was unusual in itself but not unwelcome, though most material from the conference was aimed at her.

“As you may or may not be aware,” Leliana said “the Bulls Chargers have returned not long before you, Inquisitor, with a comprehensive report of what occurred at Therinfall Redoubt.”

“Truly? If that is so, I would most interested in reading this report,” Aella responded. “This may shed some light on what happened to not only the Templars there, but explain their behaviour in Val Royeaux.”

“Indeed. That display appeared to be completely out of character, even for those who may have gone so far to break from the Chantry...”

“Though to actually follow through with such a threat would weaken them all,” Cullen interjected. “What they stood to gain from their actions was nothing if not a mystery.” 

“Our scribes are duplicating the report as we speak,” Josephine clarified. “Perhaps it would be better to reconvene for this at a later date, after everyone has taken the time to read the material?”

“A grand notion Josephine, we can draw no further conclusion until we have thoroughly examined the evidence before us. With that settled, I would like to retire for the evening with a bath and a meal as I am starving and I stink of horse. Well, horse may not be the word but it’s easier than giant, quadrupedal lizard mount” Aella said, a wry smile on her face.

Aela turned to leave, papers in hand from their discourse, before sharply turning back on her heel to speak with one particular counsellor.

“Ah, Commander Cullen; if I might monopolize just a moment of your time?”

Cullen merely nodded to the request as knowing smiles were shared and excuses were made by the others regarding matters needing attending. As they left, closing the door behind them, the Inquisitor and the Commander moved to stand hesitantly in front of one another.

They both stood there, Cullen nervously rubbing the back of his neck and Aella wringing her hands together, in silence as she struggled to put words from her mind into her mouth.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan…”

“Cullen, please” she chuckled lightly “there’s no need to be so formal still. I’ve told you before my name is Aella, you are free to call me that instead.”

“Very well, in that case Inquisitor Aella…”

Aella gave an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes as his mouth curled with a grin that she couldn’t help but reciprocate. Though his humour may sometimes leave something to be desired she enjoyed his company.

And to be frank, she could hardly criticize since Varric had called in that favour with Harrit. She still had that hand crafted trophy on her desk for posterity, a tiny cup with the title “worst mastery of puns ever” inscribed on the base. Though he may have made it as a joke, or even to shame her, she actually loved that little award.

“But back to the matter at hand, Commander,” Aella intoned jokingly “All titles aside, I did wish to speak to you regarding a personal matter.”

“Oh, I uh… yes, of course” Cullen stammered, taken aback by the sudden candidness. “Whatever did you wish to discuss?”

She brought herself to look him straight in the eye, not for long of course, the concern and uncertainty she could see there caused her to look away all too soon. She exhaled slowly, taking a short pause before the words came tumbling out, and once she started she found she couldn’t stop.

“I’m not sure you recall, you may but you were very busy at the time, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t remember at all or just put it out of your mind,” word after word spilled, babbling and almost nonsensical, but it just needed to be _out_. “It must have been, what a week, maybe two after Haven? You were doing your usual, charming routine of telling people what needed doing and when. We discussed the changes in place and how I was made Inquisitor.”

Ah. That conversation.

Of course Cullen remembered. He remembered how surprised he was after she had approached him. In the wake of Havens destruction she had appeared to have become purposefully distant with everyone and anyone, even those she may have been close to before. So for that sudden appearance, free of any obligations of meetings or the pretext of the War Council, was something of a shock.

They had spoken briefly about this and that from changes implemented, guard rotation and how morale had been affected after she “embraced” the title of Inquisitor.

Cullen could tell that although she had taken the role upon herself, unlike his mantle, it felt cumbersome to her; ill-fitting and incongruous to almost all aspects of her personality. Willing certainly was not the right word to use as she took up the ceremonial sword, but she would do what was expected of her by all.

And considering a grand portion of Thedas now looked to her influence, it was no small order to avoid disappointing people. But he would not discuss that further; it was not the time yet, as she was new to her role and had yet to disprove herself.

They moved on to other topics and spoke of the losses at Haven and how it could have been much worse. He remembered as she spoke words of gratitude that he had survived the ordeal. He also keenly remembered that look of gentle confusion she tried to mask as she change her words to “so many of you”. That confusion was further compounded when he responded in kind.

“I do recall that exchange, yes,” Cullen said quietly, coming back to himself. “May I ask what this regards?”

“I must ask, do you remember what you said that day? That you swore that you would not allow the events at Haven to happen again.”

As she had turned away after they had discussed all that needed saying, he had turned the thought over in his head.

That she had stayed in Haven, his words of encouragement aside, knowing she felt it was an execution. She had _stayed_ , despite all that.

And that he could not allow, not then nor ever again.

“Again, yes I do remember.” He stated it as simply as he could, lest something betray what he truly felt about that day. “What are you..?”

“I wanted to thank you,” Aella blurted, cutting Cullen off before he could ask more questions. “I wanted to thank you,” she repeated “as after what happened at Haven, I realise I pushed other people away, many of whom I considered friends. I was… ashamed of myself, who I was and what I had done. That I hadn’t done more to save as many as I could…”

“Inquisitor,” Cullen interjected.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that please, my _name_ is Aella,” she pleaded.

As he quieted she felt her resolve wavering, perhaps this was all a mistake; she should have left this well enough alone, but at this point in for a copper in for a crown.

“For some time after all, well, _that_ , when we spoke about it you made me feel…like I had done better. After that utter failure, you sounded like you actually cared, that I might have…not come back.”

“Of course I care,” Cullen said, incredulous at her words. “We all do. You’re the Inquisitor; everyone here has nothing but your welfare in mind.”

She visibly flinched when he used her title, her face puckering with distaste as she heard it his words. The wrenching guilt Cullen suddenly felt at her response, he regretted saying it almost immediately.

“I see,” Aella muttered softly, almost to herself. “Then you must forgive me for being so selfishly blind, that I could not see it.”

He foundered for something to say, to explain that yes, it was true; he cared for her as everyone else truly cared for her, but that feeling for him was perhaps not so straightforward.

How could he explain to someone that meant something to almost the rest of the world, what she could mean to him.

But he didn’t, and the opportunity passed by in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, ok so I wanted MOAR angst.  
> WORD OF WARNING: THIS WILL BE GETTING A HECK OF A LOT DARKER.  
> I'll be updating tags and information as I got but this fic will be getting a lot worse before it gets better.  
> All thanks go to my waifu http://raven554.tumblr.com/ for supporting and betaing all my written ramblings.


	2. Chapter 2

The seconds and too loud heartbeats continued to pulse as yet nothing was said.

“You must forgive me commander,” Aella spoke quickly to break the prolonged silence between them. “I have taken too much of your time, please excuse me.”

She straightened her back, tugging the bottom of her tunic as though pulling the fabric in place would right her mind with it.  
She gave Cullen no time to respond as she turned heel and moved towards the door, intent on ending this conversation and leaving it be as it was.

The door closed heavily her behind but she took no time to pause and think on what had just happened. If she did, the prickle of tears she felt welling behind her eyelids would threaten to spill, and the last thing she wanted for the Ambassador to see that as she passed through her office.

No, she required the solace of her high and empty tower. Anything to take her away from this foolish, foolish endeavour she should never have attempted.

She marched onward through the long corridor leading to the main hall, doing all she could to restrain the well emotion and frustration building inside. She could feel her body reflexively tensing; almost flickering with the desire to slip away as she unconscionably tugged the fabric of the Veil up and around to cloak her.  
But this wasn't the time or place for such a show, nor did she need any attention to be drawn to her when she least needed it.  
She quelled the urge to fade away and walked forward, back straight and head held high as she passed through the small crowd gathered in the grand hall for whatever reasons. 

She briefly caught the attention of a maidservant she recognised and requested that a meal, a bottle of wine and water for cleaning and be brought to her room. She didn't make that anecdote of smelling like horse simply for humour.  
With the door to the hall now behind her, as she grasped the now repaired hand railing her march turned to a traipse as she scaled the stairs up to her living quarters.

As she turned the final corner up on to plateau of her room, Aella sighed with relief as she finished her walking and dropped on to the high backed chair behind her desk.  
The scribes must have worked much quicker than expected as a copy of the Therinfall debriefing lay on her desk. She had absolutely no desire to read it right now, and whilst tipping her chair onto its back legs, she leant over reaching for a more familiar book from the shelving.

It was a book of fables her mother used to read to her, long before she was taken to the Circle. Aella was somewhat surprised that it had managed to find its way into her little library nook, but was not unhappy at it being there. She was one of the few who had good memories of her life before that choice was taken from her, she would not scorn the reminders of a happy childhood.

She idly flicked the pages, turning over familiar stories. Most were very short, focusing on the morals they taught rather than unnecessary content.  
She continued thumbing through the book until she was broken from her reverie by a clamour of feet treading heavy upon the stairs, the slosh of water in buckets accompanying each step.

The book was abandoned on the table, left open on the pages telling the story of “the Doe and the Lion” as she stood and fetched the copper bathing tub from the small storage alcove behind her bedside wall.  
As she dragged the tub to the middle of the room, the young maid she spoke to earlier and two other assistants placed the full buckets they carried on the floor beside it. Another assistant carried a tray over to her desk, laden with food.  
A bowl of hot stewed beef, a small loaf of bread, a heel of cheese and a selection of fruits (ones the Ambassador most likely imported had from Orlais). And to compliment the selection, not one but two bottles of wine.  
Just looking at the sumptuous spread made her stomach growl, and after the events that had unfolded between her and Cullen, Aella thought she would likely finish off everything brought before her, the wine included.

Aella ached for solitude after all that had happened; she gave her thanks to the servants but gave them strict instruction she was not to be disturbed and would bolt the door behind them.  
Whilst they frowned at the instruction, they did not voice any concern and bade her a good evening.  
True to her word, as soon as they left she locked the door and returned to her seat at the table. She was far too hungry to consider bathing first, so she flicked the pages of her book with one hand and occupied the other with food and drink, occasionally using both to tear at the bread or uncork a bottle.

Now thoroughly sated after her meal and well on her way to inebriation having moved on to the second bottle of wine, with said bottle in hand, Aella ambled over to copper tub.

She set the bottle down on the floor and as she bent, she hoisted the buckets up over the lip of the bath and emptied their contents, casting them aside by the stairwell once they were hollow.  
Even if she had asked them to heat the water, it would have cooled long ago. Even with the roaring fire attempting to warm the room, the glass framing the balcony on all sides was thin and the heat quickly leached away.  
Even though Aella had long accustomed to the cold (her Avvar heritage led some protection against it) it was still not something she enjoyed. So she spoke with Dagna to see if a solution could be provided, and in true Arcanist fashion, managed to concoct something (almost) magically out of thin air. The runes she had commissioned for battle were predominantly icy to the touch, Dagna had some others crafted to be used for heating at different degrees. Some warm to the touch which could easily be stored in pockets, others were hot to almost boiling point which were perfect to place about her room, the odd one hiding in the corners to keep the expansive quarters at least comfortable.

Whilst she could have used one of these runes in the water she felt, in her somewhat drunken state, she could better use her pent up emotion to heat it herself. Leaning over the now filled bath, she place her hand under the surface, swirling and eddying the liquid as she brought it to temperature. Once she was satisfied with the steam gently curling from the turning current, she fetched a small table from her bedside to sit beside her as she bathed.  
Placing the contents of her wash bag and the open bottle on wine on the table, Aella stripped out of her attire and slowly sank into the warm water inch by inch, as the strain of her journey and the emotional turmoil suddenly overtook her.  
She couldn't repress to sudden groan which escaped her lip; the days of ridding had been hard on her body, muscles knotted and aching from the unfamiliar skill. But the second groan changed to a moan, then from a shuddering sigh to a muffled sob.

Her eyes now overflowed with spilled tears as she continued to cry, quietly at first but quickly succumbed to hysterical weeping, bawling and hiccuping as she pulled her legs up into her chest as she pressed her face against her knees.  
She couldn't quite determine what it was she was lamenting for but right now, it felt almost like everything.

Everything she would never be allowed to become; that even people she felt she could trust would hold her at arms length; that no matter what, people would use her for their own devices and at the end of the day, she would be powerless to stop them.

She howled and whimpered until she could cry no more, the emotional pressure easing from her chest, ineffectively wiping salted water from her dampened face as she came back to herself.

Her eyes were sore; red and swollen from shedding tears and her throat parched from ragged breathing tearing air from her lungs.  
She gasped a few deep breaths of air to calm herself further, taking the opportunity to grab the full bottle of wine from the table beside her. The wine drenched her dry tongue as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful, no longer caring how intoxicated she was becoming, comfortably leaning back against the slope of the bath.  
Aella suddenly felt quite pleasant, the wine and the bath water suffusing her with warmth. She closed her eyes as exhaustion came upon her suddenly and she slipped into sleep, the bottle now tumbling carelessly from her limp fingers, spilling the remaining contents into the bath.  
She didn't particularly notice the now muddied water; her fatigue was so complete she didn't notice anything as her dreaming took her far from the waking world.

As she slept the wine darkened water dulled further, blackening almost to pitch, odd ripples appearing and disturbing the surface.

Long decrepit fingers emerged from beneath the surface at the foot of the tub, digits proportionally too long for the small hand that stretched out towards her. The hand was discoloured, almost as though stained or the blood vessels beneath the skin had been burst and bruised.  
Slowly, deliberately it reached forward, joined then by another hand, then another and another; each attached to limbs too long for any human. As they quietly moved, the hands ghosted over Aellas exposed body, never touching but always less than a hairsbreadth away from her skin. Up and over her body they went, advancing upwards towards her unconscious face where they stopped.

The smallest pair of hands tenderly placed themselves upon her shoulders as the larger pair cupped her face. Still Aella did not awake as the entity finally pulled the rest of itself from below the water.  
It's body was misshapen, as though two bodies had fused together to become one; its eyeless, bloated face was lacerated and raw, some cuts still bleeding and other oozing with pus; its deformed flat teeth barely held in their puffy, red gums.  
As it emerged it moved itself towards Aella, firmly holding her in placed, almost pressing it's face against hers as it opened its rank breathed maw. It stilled a moment, studying her, almost breathing in the details of her facade, when suddenly, with a cry it reared up as though to strike her.

With a startled cry Aella awoke, eyes snapping open, but there was nothing before her.

She looked about the room in panic, expecting to see something, anything, that she had heard the noise and hadn't simply dreamt it.

But there was nothing else her, nothing but her and her cold, wine stained bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said it would get worse :)
> 
> I'm not giving anythign else away until the plot begins in earnest but please let me know what you think by commenting.


End file.
